fulcrum-writes

[fulcrum-writes]

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN

THINGS I WILL WRITE:

-OC x OC

-Character x OC

-Character x self insert/reader insert

-Character x character

-NSFW

-SFW

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE:

-Incest

-Pedophila

-Zoophila

PRICES:

sfw: $7 for 900-1k, $15 for 2k (other word counts can be talked about)

nsfw: 10$ for 900-1k, 20$ for 2k (other word counts can be talked about)

A reference of my work under the cut:

The engine sputters as the pick-up truck strains against its old, rusted frame to make it up the gravel hill. It has long gotten used to the pavement and asphalt roads from the large city, where it lived out cold winters and sweltering summers in an underground parking lot. 

Optimus Primal glances over at his husband, watching as his jaw clenches in irritation at his truck. Optimus places his hand on Dinobot’s arm, a reminder for him to stop biting the inside of his mouth when he gets frustrated. They both know it’s on it’s last limbs, yet Dinobot refuses to get rid of it. So many memories have happened in this truck. Some of Dinobot’s, some of Optimus’. Too many for his husband to even consider getting rid of the battered blue truck. 

Dinobot’s wide shoulders fall as he takes a deep breath and Optimus removes his hand. He turns back to the open window, the heat from the humid July weather still filling the truck, just as it had the entire six hour drive to their new property. 

He can see the farm house from here. The roof sticks out from the long grass that covers the winding acres of land that he can’t believe is his.  There’s no music playing from the speakers. They had given up trying to fix the radio. All they can hear is gravel crunching against the tires and the chirp of birds and the soft hissing of the bugs hiding in the grass.    It’s not an awkward silence, it’s an exciting one. He is so excited for the things to come. He has a husband, as insane as that sounds to his brain. He has a husband that is completely his. 

 The truck finally pulls up the hill and into the driveway. It shakes as it breaks, slightly faulty and engine overworked.  He unbuckles his seat belt and waits until the doors unlock before getting out. The sun is against his skin, and he has to squint to see the fading red paint of the farmhouse. 

Dinobot comes from the driver seat of the car, two duffel bags on each shoulder. Optimus takes one out of his hands. He looks back at the farmhouse, smile on his lips. 

“Are you ready?” he asks Dinobot without turning to face him. The question is for himself as much as it is for his husband. 

“Yes,” Dinobot responds, and Optimus can tell from his tone that he doesn’t understand how big of a deal this is for him. He’s back where he should be. Dinobot thought of his family farm as a prison, Optimus thought of his own as what it’s supposed to feel like. Home. A family. Any word that applies to a feeling of comfort. 

 The two make their way into the house, floorboards creaking under their collective weight. The home smells like mothballs, the air is stuffy and not affected by the warm Canadian summer.

The walls have a light blue with darker blue swirls as it’s wallpaper, and Optimus is already making plans on how he would change it. Dinobot doesn’t seem to care, face emotionless. 

The stairs make more noise than the rest of the house, groaning loudly as he walks up it.

 The upstairs doesn’t look any better, with pink flower wallpaper and every door in the hallway shut tight. 

Optimus only saw a few photos online of the home, but it was the acres of land for such a cheap price that made him buy it. He gives Dinobot a glance. “Let’s find a bedroom. At least then we can put our bags down and see what our sleeping situation is like.” 

Dinobot grunts a response, and Optimus guesses he’s not in the mood for conversation. Optimus isn’t either, but he fears that he has been left with his own thoughts for too long and craves the comforts his husband brings.   They step into what is supposed to be the master bedroom. It’s big, oddly big. It has depressingly blue curtains covering a large window that overlooks the driveway and some of the tall grass. The bed post is void of a mattress, but the actual frame itself has pretty designs carved into it. Optimus doesn’t know what they’re supposed to be, they look like flowers more than anything else.  “We’ll have to sleep on the floor,” he points out, “unless we can find a couch or you want to sleep in the truck.” The delivery guys wouldn’t get there until at least the next day, and that was him optimistically reaching. He knew he could have—and should have—waited until the moving company arrived, but he needed to get out of the city. 

Dinobot scowls a little at the thought of having to sleep on the floor. Optimus reminds him that they slept on the floor for a month in their first apartment. 

“We’d get eaten alive by bugs if we stay in the truck,” Dinobot says. The window in that load of shit didn’t roll up all the way, making for annoying winters. 

“That’s true.” Optimus still wanted to see the rest of their little farmhouse. Now realizing that it seems bigger on the inside than the outside. 

Optimus sets down his bag next to the bed frame, and Dinobot hesitates for two or three seconds before setting it down beside his husband’s. 

 In the span of a few hours, they had throughly explored everything, including the barn and the suspicious looking shed at the far edge of the property. The basement door is locked, there is no attic despite the pointed roof being perfect attic shape, and there is a closet that Optimus feels needs a lock in the master bedroom.  The kitchen, bathroom, and guest bedroom are completely normal — or, as normal as a room could get in a house like this. He wonders if the laundry room is supposed to be in the basement. 

 Once it starts getting late, they head outside and sit on the porch. They eat sandwiches they had packed for the drive up and then stayed to bask in the sunlight until it set down below the tree line. 

They stay out until the crickets start chirping and the mosquitos come out. The sky darkens after a while, not dark enough for the stars to peak out from the folds of the scattered clouds. 

Optimus rests his head against Dinobot’s chest, sharing his heat with his husband. His back is against the wood of the farmhouse, and he can see the forest through the gaps in the railway. 

He yawns, eyes shutting for a moment. When he opens them, there is two white dots staring at him from the darkness of the forest. He blinks. It’s still there. What is that? There is barely any light for an animals eyes to reflect off of.

An uncomfortable feeling rests in his gut. He stands up, and Dinobot sighs dramatically at the loss of warmth Optimus brung.

“Let’s go in, yeah?” Optimus suggests, because he doesn’t want to admit that two dots of white light out in the distance scares him enough to want to go inside. 

Dinobot gives him an odd look, opening his mouth to speak. He shivers before he can say anything and seemingly decides that being slightly chilly isn’t worth it. 

As soon as Dinobot shuts the door, the feeling stops. He is not being watched anymore. Although, thinking that he’s being watched is illogical. He is overreacting.  Optimus’ husband rubs his shoulder, then starts walking upstairs. 

“Will you join me on the floor, Optimus?” Dinobot inquires, a small smile on his lips, hand outstretched as if he is a prince asking his lover to a dance. 

Optimus smiles. “Of course.” He takes Dinobot’s hand, pulling himself onto the same step the taller man is on. 

Dinobot pulls him to his chest, kissing the top of his head. Optimus laughs a little, looking up at him, eyes soft. 

 The floor isn’t as uncomfortable as Optimus suspected it to be. It’s better with a blanket underneath to stop splinters from getting into Optimus’ bare back. It’s hot upstairs, and it’s hotter with another body curled up next to him.

Dinobot shivers next to him as if it’s they had just come in from a snowstorm. He presses his face into Optimus’ naked chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against his lips and nose. 

“Are you sure there isn’t another blanket?” Dinobot asks, his breath is making Optimus’ head feel fuzzy with love. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you need me to check again?” he questions, rubbing circles along his lover’s back. 

“Stay.” 

“Alright.” Dinobot’s request relieves Optimus. He knows that there might be another blanket in the truck, but he doesn’t want to go out there, in a place he still has yet to fully explore, with whatever wild animals could be lurking. He’s no stranger to creatures coming around, but this place makes him feel odd.  Dinobot snuggles closer to him, his hair tickling Optimus’ chest with each strand.   Optimus wakes up in the middle of the night to a clawing at the kitchen window. He ignores it.